


The Princess of Altea

by jaztice



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Royalty AU, also allura wrecking the patriarchy i mean who doesn't like that, as in Allura is a princess and Shiro is a member of the royal guard au, i might make this into an actual story but for now it's just a little one shot, mostly just fluff, save my soul please
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7393390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaztice/pseuds/jaztice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Princess Allura is the ruler of Altea, a small kingdom at the edge of the Galra Empire. In order for her country to feel secure, Allura must have an heir in case the the Galra try to get rid of her like they did her father. Unfortunately, she hates most social events. She also hates most princes. </p><p>Shiro is the commander of the royal guard at Allura's palace, one of the kingdom's finest soldiers, and he bumps into Allura outside a grand ballroom party. You can probably see where this is going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Princess of Altea

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not expand this story, but for now, have a guilty pleasure Royalty AU Shallura one-shot.

Allura had never been a fan of balls, but being royalty meant she had to attend quite a few. Oftentimes, she didn’t really mind. She had a few friends at most parties, and she could be charming and sociable when she wanted to, but they were usually just… well, annoying. She’d much rather spend time alone with her (admittedly few) friends or read a book up in her room than stand around in a golden ballroom and wait for some suitor to pick her hand to dance.

That was another thing Allura hated about balls. It was all about getting picked by men. Dancing at a ball without a man was akin to ruling a country without a man, and, well, she did both. Rather well, she might add, especially considering how young she was to be ruling. Her father had died when she was sixteen, and she had taken all his burdens in stride, knowing it was her destiny to do so. Coran, her royal advisor, was a great help to her through all of this, teaching her whatever she needed to know yet letting her make her own decisions.

Unfortunately, Allura had no living relatives that she knew of, and the kingdom needed an heir to feel secure, especially with the Galra closing in. So like it or not, Allura had to attend balls in the hopes of finding a suitable partner in marriage.

It was hell.

“You should stop being so brash,” one of her friends said, a cup of wine in her hand. They were standing in the Castle of Lion’s magnificent ballroom, staring out at the costumed mass of dancers from next to the drink table. “Brashness isn’t something men like.”

“You know, I don’t think I really care about what men do and don’t like at this point,” Allura said. It was nearing midnight, and she had grown bitter and tired of the night’s affairs. If she wasn’t the host of the ball, she would’ve already retreated back to her room to read or gaze at the stars. Something. Anything was better than this.

“See, Allura? That’s your problem.” Her friend was a flitty little thing dressed in a bright pink, poofy monstrosity, face caked with powder. “You can’t find a man to marry if you act like this. You intimidate them.”

“Oh, I intimidate them? Good.” Allura traced the rim of her wine glass with her forefinger, glaring out into the crowd. “Any man that I marry _should_ be intimidated by me. I’m the ruler of a country, and I’ll not have them forget that simply because it damages their bloated egos.”

Her friend giggled and sighed, the wine coloring her face despite all the makeup she had on. “Oh, Allura,” she said wistfully, “one day you’ll understand.”

Allura highly doubted that, but she said nothing. A moment later, a suitor appeared out of the crowd and took her friend’s hand, leaving Allura alone.

Well, if there wasn’t anyone to talk to, she had no business being here anyway. Allura placed her wine glass on the table and walked out the door. Coran would have her head later for walking out on her guests, but at this point, she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to leave.

Allura stepped onto the balcony and ran up a flight of stairs as fast as she could in her dress. Another thing she hated about balls – the dresses. They made her look stunningly beautiful, but they were so difficult to move in! What if an assassin burst through the door and tried to kill her? How was she supposed to defend herself in heels?

“I suppose I could take the heels off and use them as knives,” she mused, finally emerging on her own little private balcony. It was small and overlooked the gardens, hidden unless one bothered to look for it. It was her favorite place in the castle aside from her room to go and be alone.

“Using heels as knives, now that’s a concept,” she said to herself, leaning her forearms against the railing. The moon was high in the sky and made the garden pond glitter like silver. “I wonder if I could do that. Maybe I’ll have Coran make me a pair of shoes with knives in the heels. Well… that might be painful to walk on, actually. Bad idea. But as a concept–”

“Who are you talking to?”

Allura gasped and turned around, one hand on the railing, ready to yell at whatever self-satisfied prince had stumbled onto her balcony that he was not welcome and should leave immediately. But the man she faced was not a prince. In fact, he was rather familiar, and wearing the garb of her royal guards.

“Oh,” the man said immediately, his face turning apologetic. He wasn’t quite on the balcony yet; he was standing on the step just before it, one hand on the sword in his belt. “You highness. I apologize, I didn’t know that was you, I’ll–”

“No, please, it’s alright,” Allura said immediately. She recognized this man; he was a royal guard, one of the finest in her castle, second in command to the captain. Allura hadn’t had the chance to talk to him much, but she knew of him. He’d spent a year being a prisoner of the Galra, enduring much worse than anyone could imagine. But despite that, he had grown to be one of the finest and most honorable guards in her outfit, commanding men with an ease that rivaled Allura’s own.

What was his name? Shiro? That sounded right.

“You’re Commander Shiro, are you not?” she asked, giving him a smile. He seemed so nervous. “It’s a shame we’ve never had the pleasure to meet outside our duties.”

“Oh, I’m still on duty, your highness,” he said respectfully. “It’s… well, the captain ordered me to watch out for you tonight, just in case. He knows you like to leave the parties early, and we were worried something would happen to you while you were out and about.”

“I see.” Allura knew better than to say she could take care of herself. The Captain was only looking out for her, after all. As was this boy. She’d heard Coran mention he was around her age, maybe even slightly younger, but looking at the man she couldn’t believe it. He had a presence that made him seem older, older and wiser than his years.

However, the awkwardness in his stance did drop his presumed age somewhat. Allura realized he was probably wondering what to do.

“Do you have any other duties tonight?” she asked, leaning forward against the railing. Shiro shook his head.

“No, your highness,” he said, “but… if you’re uncomfortable, I can leave–”

“No, no, please stay.” Allura smiled warmly, hoping to soothe the guard’s nerves. “I promise you, I’m not bothered at all. You can join me if you want.”

Shiro paused, his eyes dropping as he considered the invitation. After a moment, he stepped fully onto the balcony and returned her smile, walking up next to her and standing with his hands behind his back.

Allura stared out at the moon, watching the man in her peripherals. He definitely took his soldier duties seriously, didn’t he? Then again, he was probably worried about being too casual in the presence of the princess.

He was also, Allura noted, a very handsome young man. Or perhaps that was the wine talking.

“So who _were_ you talking to?” he asked, staring out at the garden.

Allura laughed. “Oh, no one,” she said. “Just myself. I do that a lot.”

“Sounded like a rather riveting conversation for just one person. What was it, shoes with knives for heels?”

Was he mocking her? She turned to see his face, but he was just smiling kindly, a little glint in his eye. Not mocking, no. But probably poking fun.

“It’s an excellent concept in theory, I assure you,” Allura replied playfully. “I mean, if I’m to be forced to wear this insufferable outfit during social events, I should at least have a way to conceal my weapons.”

“True, but walking on knives doesn’t seem like the best option.” Shiro’s smile was charming, more charming than Allura cared to admit. He also made no attempt to chastise her for wanting to carry weapons at a ball, something most of her castle’s staff would do. It was “unladylike” or some similar rubbish like that. Allura didn’t care – she could take down any member of the royal guard with her bare hands. “Unladylike” in Allura’s book translated directly to “not easily captured and killed by Galra assassins,” something she’d much rather be.

“What would you propose then, commander of the guard?” she asked. “If I can’t hide knives in my shoes, where should I put them?”

“Your sleeves, if they’re long enough,” he answered. “But they’d have to be thin knives, assassin’s knives. Or you could hide them in that poofy part of your dress. You could sew them in right at the hip and easily pull them out if you’re ever attacked.”

Allura smirked. “Not a bad idea,” she remarked. “I should have you help design my clothes.”

“Oh, that’s a bad idea, princess,” Shiro said. “I don’t know the first thing about clothes. My uniform is probably the only thing I can wear without looking like an idiot.”

She laughed at that, and Shiro laughed too, their voices carrying just slightly over the garden. Allura could see fireflies twinkling in the darkness.

“You know, it’s odd, Shiro,” Allura said, turning to the guard. “Most people in the castle would tell me hiding knives in my dress is a bad idea.”

“Oh, I know.” He smiled again, and something in Allura’s chest fluttered. “But from what I’ve heard, you’re much more adept at protecting yourself than most of the guards are at protecting you. Knives in your dress is probably the easiest way to keep the Galra from capturing you.”

“Really? Not increasing the amount of guards patrolling the parties?” she asked.

Shiro shook his head, still smiling. “No,” he said. “You can take care of yourself.”

Something in Allura shifted. The last person to say that to her had been her father, four years ago. He never doubted her abilities, and he knew the best way to protect her was to teach her how to protect herself. Coran knew this too, but he was always a little overprotective, terrified to lose the last heir to the Altean throne. It’d been so long since someone had admitted Allura was capable on her own.

It was nice, she had to admit. Especially coming from one of the finest soldiers in her royal guard.

“Thank you, Shiro,” she said, turning to stare out at the garden. “I wished the rest of the castle shared that sentiment.”

“They will eventually, your highness,” he said. “It just takes time.”

* * *

They talked on the balcony for a long time, much longer than Allura had expected to. Shiro was just so easy to talk to. He wasn’t chastising or impertinent or condescending; he was kind and considerate, and much sweeter and more intelligent than he let on. They discussed all sorts of topics Allura would’ve never asked anyone else about, silly and serious alike. It was like talking to a friend, a friend she’d never met before but had somehow known all her life.

Eventually, the castle bells struck three o’clock, signifying the end of the party, and Allura realized just how exhausted she was. It was far too late in the evening for her to be up. She yawned in middle of a sentence, and Shiro smiled.

“It’s rather late, isn’t it?” he asked politely. “You should probably get to sleep.”

“Hm, yes. Sounds like a good idea.” Allura sighed and stood up – the two of them had sat down on a stone bench on the balcony after their feet grew tired. Shiro helped her steady herself and offered his arm.

“Would you care for an escort to your room?” he asked.

“I’d love one,” Allura said, exhausted. “I’d probably get lost on the way there if I wasn’t.”

Shiro chuckled and Allura laced her arm in his, carrying her heels with her other hand. It was much easier to go down the stairs without those cursed shoes on. The two of them skirted around the ballroom and headed inside through the servant’s door, Shiro easily guiding Allura back to her room. They stopped just outside the door, Shiro opening it for Allura and letting her in like a gentleman.

“Thank you, Shiro,” she said, smiling as she stepped inside. “It was lovely talking to you.”

“To you as well, your highness,” he replied. He bowed his head respectfully and lifted it again. “Thank you for allowing me the pleasure.”

Allura couldn’t seem to stop smiling until Shiro turned to leave. Then she paused.

“Shiro?” she asked. He stopped in the hallway, turning just enough for her to see his profile in the dark. “Do you think… Would it be alright if you were my guard at the next ball?”

He turned, his eyes bright in the dark, and he smiled.

“I’d be honored, Princess Allura,” he said.

He bowed and turned away, walking down the hall into the dark, and Allura shut the door with a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.


End file.
